


My Favorite Asshole

by CRAmber



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Barista Derek, Coffee Shop, M/M, Student Stiles, coffeeshop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 13:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7173470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CRAmber/pseuds/CRAmber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AKA the coffeeshop AU nobody asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Favorite Asshole

Stiles pulled open the door, the scent of freshly ground coffee filling his nose and the jingle of the bells on the door music to his ears.  He stepped inside his favorite coffeeshop and ran a hand through his bedhead, refusing to care about what he looked like until Derek had injected some caffeine into his bloodstream for a small fee of $3.85.

Derek was Stiles’ favorite barista.  He carried with him a dark, brooding, might kill you if you piss him off sort of look, but he managed to entertain Stiles with nothing more than a tweak of his lips or a flick of an eyebrow.  

“You know what I want,” Stiles mumbled, receiving one side of Derek’s mouth lifting into what passed for a smile in Derek’s world in response.  He punched in Stiles’ customary order and wordlessly took his money, handing back his change in order to complete what could be called a ritual between the two of them for how often it took place.  

As Derek prepared his drink, Stiles meandered along the counter, eventually arriving at the end to wait for his liquid sustenance.  

“One black coffee, no milk, two sugars, half a pump of hazelnut for my favorite asshole who won’t even talk to me before eight AM,” Derek said, smirking as he handed over the drink.

“I don’t have the energy to react to that right now but you know I’ll be back,” Stiles responded before turning to leave.  He turned back and waved as he opened the door and was rewarded with a quirk of Derek’s left eyebrow that Stiles had come to decipher as a goodbye a few months ago.  

Stiles headed off to his classes for the day, accomplishing nearly nothing as professors droned on.  He was assigned two new projects though, neither of which he was thrilled about but both of which meant he had an excuse to sit in the back corner of the coffeeshop and “work.”

“You called me an ashole this morning,” was the first thing out of his mouth when he arrived at the counter after class.

“True,” Derek conceded after thinking for a moment, “but I also said you’re my favorite asshole,” he concluded, emphasizing the word ‘favorite.’

“And just how many assholes do you know?” Stiles couldn’t help asking around the playful smirk on his lips.

Derek considered the question for a moment, then decided: “Really it’s just you, now how about you wipe that smirk off of your face before I do it for you and order your coffee, you’re holding up my better customers.”

“Like you have any better customers, you love me,” Stiles contested, doing his best to ignore the blush that seemed to be creeping into Derek’s cheeks at his comment.  “You know what I’m getting anyway, why do you need to ask for my order?”

Derek ducked his head in what could probably pass for a nod if Stiles didn’t know him so well and turned to prepare his drink.  

“Still my favorite,” Derek noted as he passed off the cup.  ‘Favorite what?’ Stiles wondered at the distinct lack of the word ‘asshole’ at the end of Derek’s statement.  

Stiles stayed till closing time working on one of his projects, stealing glances at Derek whenever he could, distracting him with a funny face or a rude gesture that accurately portrayed their friendship.

“Stiles, I gotta close the shop,” Derek finally said.  Stiles studiously ignored the fact that it was already twenty minutes after he was supposed to do so.  

“Just ten more minutes?  I’m actually getting this project done, Der!” Stiles wheedled.

“Alright,” Derek conceded again.  He found himself doing that a lot whenever Stiles was involved.  He chose to spend those ten minutes sitting across from Stiles in his booth.  Finally, Stiles could no longer bear the heat of Derek’s eyes on him.  He looked up, finding that it wasn’t awkward to simply maintain Derek’s gaze.  As the two of them stared at each other, Stiles felt something flutter in his chest that he’d been struggling to repress for weeks.  

Finally, Stiles broke the silence: “I think it’s time to close the shop.”  Derek hummed in agreement, but neither was willing to tear their own eyes away from the other’s.

Stiles wasn’t sure how it happened, but eventually he found himself packing up his things and standing in the doorway of the shop, looking up at Derek once again.  

Without consciously making the decision to do so, he reached up, his hand making contact with Derek’s cheek, as he pulled him into a tender, sweet kiss.  When he realized that Derek wasn’t reciprocating, he quickly backed away.  

“Well, I think I’m done with my work here for the night, so I’ll just, uh...” Stiles trailed off, quickly turning and beginning to walk down the sidewalk and he mentally filed though all the other coffeeshops he knew of so that he’d never have to come back to this one and face the mortification of seeing Derek again.

“Stiles!” he heard Derek call out.  He froze, but didn’t turn back around.  “You forgot something.”  Sighing to himself, he turned around and began to walk back to where Derek stood, ignoring his rapidly increasing heartbeat.  

“Well?”  Stiles asked when he arrived and was again face to face with Derek.  “What did I forget?”  

“My heart,” Derek said, then muffled any response Stiles could have given with his own lips.


End file.
